False Memory

It’s been ten years since that memory,
But only four since it came to bother me.

Was it all just a dream?
Did my mind create you?
Or did you really hurt me,
Like I remember, in the bathroom?

I don’t feel like myself.
I don’t feel like I should.
I don’t feel right.
I don’t feel good.

Whenever she touches me,
I can feel you there.
Whenever she touches me,
I don’t feel like she cares.

Has it all been a dream?
Were my scars a mistake?
Is there anyone out there
With whom love I can make?

Why do you haunt me
If that day wasn’t real?
Why do I have nightmares?
Why are my days filled with tears?

It’s been ten years since that memory
But only four since it came to bother me

Did I hallucinate
Your hand on my breast?
Did I dream up
The smell of your breath?

I feel hopeless.
No answers I’ve found.
Most days I wish
I could put myself in the ground.

Coming to Grips with My Sexuality - 11/18/08

The river bend of my childhood glowed in front of me,

and I sang as I strolled along the sewer run.

What wonders lie in front of me, I could only imagine.

Would my love be waiting at the end of my journey?

As I came to the fork, I looked both ways,

carefully searching for some sign from the Heavens.

In which direction did my heart truly lead?

It was difficult, back then, to decipher the truth.

To be honest, it’s still difficult, at times.

I listened to the voices in side of me,

arguing my future with you.

“To Hell if need be,” one said to the other.

“To Heaven,” the other, “It’s the only way.”

I stared downward, my confused tears joined the mucky water.

In one direction, I saw my future.

In the other, that which they wished for me.

I mumbled a prayer for my soul

and continued on my way.

Encounter - 11/16/08

Walk past me.
Please walk past me.
He stares at me in that awful way.
He winks.
I feel my stomach wretch.
I go to the office
and beg to go home.

He waltzed on in.
I was confused.
Wasn't this the girls' room?
His eyes shone black
with a speck of red.
The blood I'd discover
that night.

My legs burned.
The radiator behind me buzzed
but I couldn't move.
He wouldn't let me move.
His hand left a bruise on my wrist.
The other a strange feeling inside.
The girls entered.

He left smiling that guilty smile
but they looked at me like I had sinned.
I hid in the stall
until the halls came to life.
Then I ran
to the office
to call my mom.

Fake a stomach ache.
Force vomit if necessary.
Go home.
Crawl in bed.
Pretend it's safe.
You don't have to go back
if you're dead.

Workaholic - A Cinquain

Your kiss
I often miss.
Each day seems like the last
since you've been gone. Don't leave me here
alone.

Ethiopia - A Sestina (Kelsey had me pick 6 words... This is what came out of it.)

I think about the taste of your apples.
My tongue swells up, feels like a marshmallow.
I think someday, together, we'll elope.
There will be many white burning candles.
Then we'll set sail to Ethiopia.
There, I will write our love in my notebook.

Nothing is more precious than my notebook,
to me. To you, precious are your apples.
Our daughter comes from Ethiopia.
Her skin is dark, night. Ours, like marshmallows.
Your eyes reflect the flickering candles,
and I know it was right that we eloped.

My parents hated us, so we eloped.
I carry our hearts in my full notebook,
written by the light of a bride's candle.
I think about the love of our apple.
My tongue swells up, feels like a marshmallow.
I think about her, Ethiopia.

Our daughter comes from Ethiopia.
I pray when she's in love, she won't elope
with a man who's skin is like marshmallows.
I pray she'll keep, like I did, a notebook,
and write of her love and their apples.
They'll marry and join their life's candles.

The two are one, a beautiful candle.
Then she'll return to Ethiopia,
and in that land she'll find her eye's apple.
Unlike us, she won't be glad she eloped.
Her apple will shine and keep a notebook
and write of the love of two marshmallows.

Two lovers, we, our skin like marshmallows.
Two hearts are one, glowing in a candle.
A love, immortalized in a notebook
Our greatest love, she, Ethiopia
will tell of our love and why we eloped.
I'll taste again the taste of your apples.

Two marshmallows in love will elope.
Our candles joined, I'll talk of your apple
in my notebook. She, Ethiopia.